Page 20 of Fragile

My eyes narrowed. “I’d disagree. You obviously stay in shape,” I informed him with a wave of my hand.

His expression switched to thoughtful, but his tone suggested he was still mildly amused. “Is that your way of telling me you think I have a good body?”

My pulse fluttered; longing to run my fingers along his perfectly sculpted torso. I decided to bite the bullet, he had an excellent physique and he knew it. Plus, I was an athlete; knowledge of the human body and fitness were my superpowers. “If you like,” I replied, my voice suddenly quite husky. “I think we both know you’re attractive Gabriel but you're not my type. I’d still give you a solid seven though.” My words were laughable as I didn’t have a type but I wanted to knock him off his perch.

He grimaced but I saw he was amused. “A solid seven? Ouch.”

A silence stretched between us, and I felt for the mug I’d left on the side behind my back, retrieving it and strolling over to the tap to fill it with water. I then turned and leaned back against the sink; Gabriel had remained exactly where he was but had placed his empty cup on the side behind him. He was staring at me, watching me quietly, in full assessment mode. I wondered what he was thinking.

I cleared my throat as he subjected me to an agonisingly slow appraisal. My senses were primed for fight or flight and unbelievably fight won. I stood my ground. I was a confident woman and proud of my body and I hadn’t done anything wrong. So why did I suddenly feel like I shouldn’t be there?

When he didn’t speak, I felt the need to fill the silence. “So, how many times do you work out?”

He shrugged his massive shoulders and then folded his arms across his chest. “A couple of hours a day. You?” he questioned with a flick of his head in my direction. I took a sip of water and then placed the cup on the sideboard.

Our eyes remained tied together. “Ten hours a day, sometimes twelve at the weekend,” I explained, without flinching.

His eyebrows shot up, “Ouch,” he replied with a grimace.

There was another beat of silence.

“Did you always want to be a dancer?”

I tilted my head, considering his question, still very aware that I was standing before a stranger in a T-shirt. “As long as I can remember. How about you? Did you always want to be a lawyer?

“No.” Gabriel’s response was quick. He didn’t even have to think about it.

My brow threaded. “Really? I’m surprised.”

He inhaled and then said with a quirk of his head. “Why?”

Gabriel’s face in the light of the morning was the epitome of masculine beauty. A perfectly sculpted face with a sharp nose, delineated cheekbones, and a square jaw.

Shaking myself out of my trance, I explained, “Well, due to your father, I suppose. Isn’t it a theme of your family?” As soon as the words were out, I wanted to suck them back in. Asher had explained that he had issues with his dad so why the heck had I made him part of the discussion?

Gabriel’s expression darkened and became withdrawn. “So, you think a son should follow in his father’s footsteps?”

My lips twisted and I smoothed a chunk of hair back from my face. I’d opened that can of worms now and so had to deal with the fallout. “Isn’t that what usually happens in powerful families?”

His face then changed and a knowing look crossed his features. “Powerful? Ah, let me guess, you’ve googled us?”

I gave him a pointed look. “Of course, I have. I’m not stupid. I needed to know who I’d be living with.”

“I see. Well, you clearly didn’t do enough digging.” His voice had deepened; it was a low rich rumble and it vibrated across my bones. Gabriel was direct and succinct and I imagined he’d be amazing in a courtroom.

My thoughts bounced back to his comment. “What do you mean?”

Gabriel lowered his arms and he pushed off the counter and took a step towards me. “If you knew about all the skeletons in my family’s wardrobe, you wouldn’t be here right now,” he explained, dashing a hand across the scruff on his jaw. He hadn’t shaved and it made him look dangerously sexy.

“Is that your attempt to scare me off?”

His eyes narrowed. “What do you think?”

Chewing the inside of my lip, I ran my eyes up and down his frame. Mirroring what he had done to me at the beginning of the week when I was on his doorstep. “I don’t know. I need more time.”

“More time for what?” I knew he was making me spell it out on purpose. He suddenly had difficult written all over him.

“Well, to get to know you.” Although after everything Asher had told me about his brother, I was surely part way there.

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